


in light inaccessible

by Lizzen



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Dark, F/F, Golden Age (Narnia), Protective Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizzen/pseuds/Lizzen
Summary: Susan will do much to save her subjects.Susan will do anything to save her brother.





	in light inaccessible

**Author's Note:**

  * For [underscored](https://archiveofourown.org/users/underscored/gifts).



> Written for the Narnia Fic Exchange 2018 for underscored

She’s on her morning walk through the gardens when she feels the first chill of winter. Nothing like the long winter before, of course. In her many years as queen, there have been deliciously cold days with revels in the snow and more hot chocolate than anyone can drink. Winter is a joyous time for her; more complicated for others. Memory has its teeth.

Tumnus appears by the apple trees. There’s an immediate happiness, seeing him. Susan has always very much liked the faun. But then she sees the look on his face and she slows in her step. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost, dear one,” she says.

He shakes his head and there’s a tremble in his limbs. “There’s a matter I must bring to your attention.”

Susan considers this. Edmund keeps Tumnus as his spymaster; the cautious watchman of politics and intrigue regarding Narnia and its subjects. The partnership has been fruitful, particularly with their latest success against Rabadash. So, for Tumnus to be turning to her means-- it means--

She reaches out to touch his shoulder and he leans into her warmth. “Tell me everything.”

 

*  
There are many in Narnia who mourned when Jadis fell, and there are more still who believe a new rumor about a witch in the north.

And they are shifting from lone voices, whispering into the wind; they are becoming organized.

 

*  
Susan goes to Peter immediately, already having ordered his clothes and armor to be packed. “You’re going north,” she says.

“I’m going north, apparently,” he says, good spirited as always. “Giants?”

“Not quite,” she says.

 

*  
Susan goes to Lucy next, and tells her all. Watches a bitterness tighten her jaw. “Do I go with Peter?” Lucy asks, ever valiant. “I am not afraid.”

“I am,” Susan says briskly. “And I need you here. I need your eyes.”

 

*  
It is Edmund who goes to her. He finds her, pale faced. “They will come after me first,” he says. And she nods. “They think I’m the weak link.” He shudders and her heart just aches for him. Loves him so completely. She reaches for him, holds him close to her. Hums a melody from their youth. Doesn’t say what she believes:

_yes, you are_

 

*  
“There will be a ringleader,” Tumnus says.

“I want him,” Susan says.

 

*  
She sends for the Archenland princes and the Calormen girl; the fanfare will mask her efforts. There will be weeks of parties, dinners, dances, and songs. She and her subjects coming and going from the Cair. Tales told with flourish and style, and battles replayed. No expense spared.

And there’s nothing so helpful as three extra blades should her worst fears come to pass.

 

*  
Peter’s missives arrive with nothing to report other than he’s found a number of hags. Harmless, his letter says. But Susan’s eyes narrow.

 

*  
The girl Aravis catches her one night, looking up at a painting of Aslan. “The great cat,” she says. “He left us so soon.”

Susan tilts her head to the side. “He never stays long.” It comes out more sour than she intended. “And He never answers when I call.”

“Ah,” Aravis says. Susan remembers how very recently, the Lion scratched her back till it bled. “Zardeenah,” she says. “Pray to her.”

 

*  
There’s a knock at the door and she finds Edmund there, his eyes red. He looks like he regrets being there, at her door when it’s near midnight. But then his mouth opens and his fears tumble out.

“Am I bound to her forever? Is there no escape?” he says.

It’s been some time since she’s comforted him after a nightmare, but there’s no shame in it. She draws him in, looks him in the eye. “As long as I live, you will never be hers again.”

 

*  
Susan stares up at the ceiling long after Edmund falls asleep in her bed.

“Lady,” she says, simply, “I need help.”

There’s the faintest of whispers, nothing discernable. Likely just the wind.

She bites her lip, and tries to ignore her disappointment.

 

*  
There’s a minotaur waiting for her at the apple trees that morning. “The Holly tree,” he says. “Noted for the trickery of their poison berries, the sharpness of their leaves. Winter does not affect them.”

“One of the trees on her side?” she asks.

“One of the oldest trees on her side,” he replies.

 

*  
The weather is crisp on the night she hosts a dance in the forest.

A mouse in Tumnus’ employ appears at her knee and directs her attention to a beautiful dryad at the center of the dance. A holly. “Her,” the mouse says before rushing off.

“Her,” she says, taking it in. The ringleader of a possible rebellion. A follower of Jadis.

And she’s dancing with Edmund.

Susan lifts herself to her full height and her fingers itch for the touch of her bow. Gentle, she may be, but in this moment, all she wants is violence.

Then, how swiftly it happens.

She feels rather than sees a great black shadow step next to her. “Oh my queen,” the shadow says in a low voice, a woman’s voice. “The dryad will bed your brother tonight. It is better if you take his place.”

Her head spins and her heart races, but she remains as still as she can. This is strange advice, unlike anything Aslan would offer. “Lady,” she replies. “I don’t see how--”

“Intimacy begets the closeness you need. For answers, for justice.” There’s a pause. “Narnia must remain whole, and your brother safe.”

“Bed the enemy?” Susan says quietly. She hums. “I-- I don’t--”

A low chuckle, but not unkind. “I’ll help you,” Zardeenah says. There’s a hand at her back, and at the touch, Susan feels a sudden spike of confidence, and of desire. “Dance.”

Susan takes a breath.

The moment her feet touch the dancing lawn, everyone moves out of her way. For it is known far and wide that Queen Susan is the prettiest dancer across all the lands touched by the sun. She snaps her fingers in the air and the musicians change their tune to a song she particularly likes and the whole crowd sighs with joy.

“Holly!” she says. The dryad’s head turns, her smile too bright. “I would have you dance with me.”

The dryad makes the loveliest of bows. “An honor,” she says. And she walks towards her with something hungry in her eyes. “An honor that you will see how light I am on my feet.”

Susan makes a curtsy and the dance begins.

 

*  
Years ago, there was a handsome boy in the Lone Islands; they had tumbled together between the sheets and she found it all very nice. Since then, she knows the joys of self-pleasure in the dark watches of the night; the swift rhythmic pulse to get a beautiful relief.

But nothing compares with holding down such a lovely dryad against a bed of leaves and getting her fingers wet. There’s a constant whisper in her ear; such a low sound, speaking words of encouragement. Between the goddess’ voice and the holly’s sighs, Susan feels herself quite electric.

It’s unusual to watch the holly come; her face so open with delight and her limbs writhing against Susan’s hold. There’s a kind of hunger that begins in her belly, the desire to do it again.

And she does; the Queen of Narnia keeps at it till the holly is weak. Whimpering against her, begging her to stop. “That’s enough, daughter of eve,” she says. “Let me repay you--”

And Susan moves so swiftly. Gets her hands around that long neck and she squeezes tight.

The holly looks shocked for a moment before her expression changes, turns quite ugly.

“And here I was thinking you a fool,” she says. Breathes in. “I like you better this way.”

“I know where your tree is,” Susan lies. “And I’ll burn it down.”

There’s a laugh before: “I’m not afraid of you.”

“Tell me everything,” Susan demands.

“For services rendered,” the holly says, a mean sound, “I’ll tell you this, and you will learn something important here tonight, girl. _Whoever heard of a witch who really died?_ ” Her lips curve up into such a smile. “You can always get them back.”

“What does she want?” Susan says, fierce.

The holly looks prim. “What she’s always wanted. A Son of Adam.” She licks her lips. “And your _brother_ Ed--”

Her heart wrenches. The desire to smother the name right out of her mouth overcomes her. Susan grips tight and the holly chokes. Rage fuels her; rage that cold fingers would reach for Edmund’s heart again. Taking that sweet boy and souring him for an evil cause. No, it cannot happen; she will not let it happen while she still draws breath. She’s shot to kill before, watched her enemies fall. And it would be so easy to snap her neck. Tumnus will find the tree and they’ll burn it after. She could just squeeze a little tighter.

It would be so easy.

“Do it,” the shadow says and Susan blinks. Startled by the order, alarmed by her own bloodlust.

“No,” Susan says, recoiling a little, but just enough.

The holly takes the opening, and in moments strong hands are gripping Susan’s throat. “What happens to a daughter of eve if she dies here?” It’s a cruel kind of smile. “What if I toy with you first? Make you writhe against my touch before I cut your throat?”

Again, Susan feels the shadow rather than sees it. The Lady of the Night present in her formless shape. “Holly,” she says softly. “Be gone.” Words, simply spoken.

And between the blink of an eye, the holly is gone.

“You won’t see her again,” Zardeenah says. “She’s mine now.” There’s something unsettling in those words, and Susan feels a tremble in her limbs. A new fear of this goddess. “And her mistress will have to learn patience under the earth.”

“I don’t under--”

The shadow gets close, and Susan almost feels like she’s suffocating. “As for you. I’ve watched you a long time, girl. You’re stronger than most,” the Lady says. “I believe you could outlast her, outlast any of us. Outlast Narnia itself.”

“What do you mean?” Susan asks, staring up at the dark shape.

The low chuckle again, but this time Susan shudders. “May you live forever, Susan Pevensie,” she says and the darkness dissipates into nothing.

Dazed, Susan lies against the ground, wondering if those words were a curse.

 

 

*  
When Susan stumbles out of the forest, Lucy and Tumnus are waiting for her on the green, sitting close together. Lucy’s head on Tumnus’ shoulder. His hand in her hand.

“Where is Edmund?” Susan asks, hoping she doesn’t sound desperate for the news. Hoping she still has some dignity left tonight.

Lucy raises her head. “In bed, of course. I ordered Oreius to take him there the moment you disappeared.” She smiles. “You asked me for my eyes, remember?”

Susan lets out a sigh. Lucy rises to her feet and gets close. Brushes out a few leaves from Susan’s hair. “What next?” Lucy asks softly.

The night has turned cold, and she shivers. Winter is arriving at a faster pace than expected. Susan opens her mouth: “We have work to do.”

 

**THE END**


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